Rule Zero
by timewalker05
Summary: When a body shows up with 'Rule 40' carved on it's chest, it appears that there is a killer on the loose with a personal connection to Gibb's team.
1. Chapter 1

RULE ZERO

Chapter 1 - Prologue

"All I'm saying," Anthony DiNozzo said as he and McGee exited the elevator, "is that it's not natural."

"It's perfectly natural," Timothy McGee countered, as he pulled his gun out to put in his desk drawer.

"What is unnatural?" Ziva David asked, looking up from her computer.

"McRomeo here," Tony said, pointing a thumb at McGee before opening his desk drawer and dropping in his own gun, "has been on three dates with Elaine from down in accounting and they haven't kissed yet."

"Elaine," Ziva said. "The one with the really firm buttocks?"

"Yes," McGee said. Then quickly, "No! I mean… Yes, Elaine the blonde from accounting. She, ah, teaches aerobics in her spare time."

"I dated an aerobics instructor once," Tony said, his voice low and smooth. "Very flexible." He flopped into his desk chair and pulled out his keyboard to type in his password.

Ziva smirked.

"She's a really nice girl and we're taking it slow," McGee said, sitting.

"Glaciers are slow, McLiplock," Tony said. "You're slower than… Well, a glacier."

"As slow as you typing a report?" came the familiar voice of Leroy Jethro Gibbs a moment before he came striding around the corner of DiNizzo's desk. "Grab your gear. We've got a dead petty officer."

"Where?" DiNizzo asked.

"The loading dock downstairs," Gibbs said, already striding toward the elevator.

The rest of the team exchanged a confused look before scrambling to grab their gear and hurry toward the elevators.

* * *

The elevator doors opened and the team filed out to find Doctor Donald "Ducky" Mallard and his assistant Jimmy Palmer already standing on the loading dock, looking down at something. The loading dock at the NCIS building was seldom used. Most deliveries pulled into the large garage where technicians processed the larger evidence. As such, it was empty and not a little dusty. McGee sneezed.

"What have you got, Duck?" Gibbs asked, ignoring McGee as he strode toward the pair.

"Ah, good morning, Jethro," Ducky said. "I must say, I'm not used to having my corpses gift wrapped and delivered."

Gibbs walked up next to Ducky and looked down. A body in the uniform of a Navy petty officer was lying face-down on the loading dock, wrapped in clear plastic stretch wrap of the kind used to wrap pallets for shipping. The plastic glinted and shown in the early morning light, making it hard to discern details on the body.

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed. "That's a new one, Duck." He turned to his team. "DiNizzo…"

"Photos and measurements. On it, boss," DiNozzo said, pulling the camera out of his bag.

"McGee."

"I'll access the security cameras and see if we've got a visual on whoever dropped off the body," McGee said, hurrying back toward the elevator and letting out another sneeze.

"David."

"Checking with security for a list of all vehicles entering or leaving the facility in the last twenty-four hours," Ziva said.

As the team hurried away, Gibbs turned back to Ducky. "So you specifically requested me to investigate this one," he said.

"Indeed I did, Jethro. And thank you for not simply barking my name and assuming I will go off to do whatever it is that you want me to do."

Gibbs shrugged. "My people know their jobs, Duck."

"Yes, although I am reminded of a lion tamer I knew in London who…"

"Duck," Gibbs cut him off. "Dead petty officer?"

"Oh. Yes. Right," Ducky said. "I called you because of this." He knelt down next to the body and looked up at his assistant. "If you would, Mr. Palmer."

Jimmy knelt down on the other side of the body and, at a nod from Ducky, helped him roll the body on to its side. The plastic gave a little crinkling sound as the raised the body.

Ducky nodded at the corpse's chest. The petty officer's uniform was pulled back to reveal his bare chest. Carved into the chest, in block letters large enough to read through the diffusion of the plastic wrapping, was 'RULE 40.'

"I didn't think it was a coincidence," Ducky said. "Isn't that your Rule 38? 'There is no such thing as coincidence'."

"Rule 39," Gibbs corrected him.

"So what's Rule 40?" Ducky asked.

Gibbs squatted by the corpse and stared at the words carved in the flesh. His voice was low, so Ducky had to lean a little closer to catch the words. "If it seems like someone is out to get you, they are."


	2. Chapter 2

RULE ZERO

Chapter 2

"What have we got?" Gibbs asked, striding into the bullpen where DiNozzo, McGee and Ziva were standing in front of the large television monitor.

DiNozzo quickly swiped the remote from McGee's hand and punched a button. A picture and service record appeared on the screen. "Our victim is Petty Officer Second Class Reginald Butler," DiNizzo said. "Currently assigned to the Dudley Knox Center for Naval History here at the Navy Yard. Spotless service record. Parents George and Amanda Butler live in Gainesville, Texas, where Daddy Butler teaches history at Gainesville Junior High; perhaps why Junior was working at the Knox Center."

McGee snatched the remote from DiNozzo and pressed a button. A new photo and service record appeared on the screen. "Butler roomed with Petty Officer Second Class Michael Desharra, currently assigned to the U.S.S. Enterprise, which sailed May 11 and has been conducting carrier quals in the West Atlantic. We confirmed that Petty Officer Desharra is aboard."

Ziva held up a stack of papers. "I have a list of all the vehicles which entered or departed the Navy Yard in the last twenty-four hours. Ducky has confirmed the time of death as between midnight and three a.m. I am checking all the vehicles, starting with those that left between midnight and three on the assumption that the killer would have left soon after he dumped the body."

"Never assume," Gibbs said. "The killer might still be on base. What did we get from the security cameras?"

"Nothing, boss," McGee said.

"Nothing?" Gibbs asked.

McGee hit another button on the remote. Various windows appeared showing footage from security cameras around the base. "Footage from the security cameras is stored automatically on secure servers in the Security Office. The footage from outlying cameras is fine, but when I tried to access the footage from the cameras covering the loading dock and the parking lot outside building 57, the Knox Center, I get this…" He pressed another button and a Tom and Jerry cartoon appeared in a window on the monitor. "Someone wiped the footage and overwrote it with this cartoon."

"Any other cameras tampered with?" Gibbs asked.

"No," McGee answered.

"Have you got a time?"

"Whoever it was erased the footage from between one a.m. and four a.m.," McGee said.

"That gives us our window," Gibbs said. "Ziva. Check with the guards on duty that night. See if anyone saw anything. DiNozzo…"

"Victim's apartment?" DiNozzo asked.

"Start with his co-workers," Gibbs said. "See if there was anyone who had a reason to kill him. And have security canvas the scene around building 57 to see if they can find anything. That's our likely murder scene. McGee, get those security servers to Abby. See if there's anything she can recover from the footage, or any clue as to who erased those tapes."

"Technically, they're not tapes…" McGee began.

A look from Gibbs was all it took to send McGee scurrying toward his desk. "Getting the servers now, Boss."

"Gibbs," a voice called from above. Gibbs looked up to see NCIS director Leon Vance standing at the railing outside MTAC. "My office," Vance said, and then stuck the ever-present toothpick back in his mouth and walked toward his office.

Gibbs turned to find his team looking at him expectantly. "Well what are you waiting for, an engraved invitation?"

At that the team scattered like quail before a bird dog, each to their respective assignments. Gibbs nodded to himself and then walked slowly up the stairs toward the director's office.

* * *

Vance was sitting behind his desk, looking over a piece of paper when Gibbs entered. Vance looked up and nodded toward the chairs in front of his desk. Gibbs stepped between the two chairs and assumed something vaguely resembling a relaxed parade rest. "You wanted to see me, director?"

Vance repressed the urge to order Gibbs to sit. Instead, he leaned back in his chair so that he didn't have to look up at him. "SecNav is on my ass about this one," he said. "It doesn't look good to have bodies showing up at NCIS's doorstep."

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed.

"Have you got anything so far?" Vance asked.

"Got my people working on it," Gibbs replied.

Vance stood up. "That's not what I asked. What about this 'Rule 40' carved in his chest? I've heard about your rules. You think there's a connection?"

"Don't know yet," Gibbs said.

Vance glowered.

"Something else, Director?" Gibbs asked.

"You want me to come out and ask it?" Vance exploded. "Okay, I'm asking. Did you have any connection with the victim, Special Agent Gibbs?"

"Not that I am aware of… Director."

Vance shook his head in frustration. "Keep me in the loop on this one, Gibbs. I know you like to play it close to the vest, but it's my ass hanging out on this one, too."

"I'll make sure you get copies of all my reports," Gibbs said.

Vance shook his head. "Get the hell out of my office." But there was no heat behind the words.

* * *

"Have you ever had a body wrapped up like this before, Doctor?" Palmer asked.

"Never quite like this," Ducky said, carefully snipping at the plastic wrap. "Although in Burma I did have a body wrapped in banana leaves. It seemed the killer wanted to preserve the corpse because he planned to snack on it later."

"Wait," Palmer said, looking incredulous. "The killer was a cannibal? Was this some primitive tribal murder?"

"Heavens, no," Ducky said. "The killer was a British army sergeant who suffered from porphyria and was convinced that he could cure himself by eating human flesh."

"Did it work, Duck?" Gibbs asked, striding through the doorway to autopsy.

"Alas, we shall never know, because the daft bugger was shot between the eyes by a Burmese Army patrol," Ducky said. "If you're here to see what I have so far, your usually impeccable timing is off, Jethro. Mr. Palmer and I have just started our examination of the petty officer here."

"What's the holdup, Duck?" Gibbs asked.

"Believe it or not, Jethro," Ducky said, "I do work on other cases besides yours. I had to testify at a federal grand jury hearing this morning on the Simkins case."

"Well, the Director and SecNav are all hot and bothered to get this one solved, Duck."

"Thus, the reason that I am examining Petty Officer Butler before any of my other guests," Ducky said, with a negligent wave toward the rows of cold-storage drawers lining the wall. "I can tell you that the words, here, were carved into his chest post-mortem. There's no bruising around the cuts. And as you have no doubt guessed, the murder was committed elsewhere and the body moved to our loading dock. Lack of blood around the cuts suggests that the petty officer bled out somewhere else. So you'll have to look elsewhere for your murder scene, I am afraid."

"Already got an idea on where that might be, Duck. Someone erased the security camera footage from over by the petty officer's duty station over at the Knox."

"And you have security canvassing the area?" Ducky asked.

Gibbs cocked his head to the side.

"Of course," Ducky said, holding up his hands. "You do not tell me how to do my job…"

Gibbs almost smiled.

"Mister Palmer," Ducky said. "Could you go get a larger evidence bag for the plastic wrap? I am afraid there is too much for our standard variety."

"Of course, Doctor," Palmer said.

Gibbs and Ducky watched him hurry out of the room and then Ducky turned back to Gibbs. "So, Jethro, is someone trying to send you a message?"

"Don't know that for sure yet, Duck."

"But you do not believe in coincidences. And to have this message carved in a body and left on your doorstep, so to speak…" He paused. "It would have to be someone who knew you fairly well to know about Rule 40."

"They're not exactly a secret, Duck," Gibbs said.

"But you believe that this is a message to you," Ducky said.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do," Gibbs said, turned, and walked out of the room. "Call me when you've got cause of death," he called over his shoulder.

* * *

Abby Sciuto, NCIS' resident forensic specialist, was bobbing her head violently up and down to the loud music blaring from the stereo in her basement lab as she stood in front of her array of displays. Suddenly, she froze, grabbed the remote, and turned off the music. Slowly, she turned to find Gibbs standing behind her, a familiar white cup with red lid in his hand.

"No, Gibbs. No. No. No. You're early. I haven't earned this yet." She took the Caf-Pow and slammed it onto the counter behind her, then turned back to him. "You're only supposed to magically appear once I have something."

"Nice to see you, too, Abbs," Gibbs said.

"You're upsetting the structure of the universe here, Gibbs," she whined, dancing from one foot to the other. "Whenever you appear before I've got something, bad mojo is in the air."

Gibbs grabbed her arms and held her still for a moment. "Abby. I just came to check on you. There's a killer loose on the base, and I want you to be careful."

Abby stopped moving and looked up at Gibbs. "I'm always careful," she said. "Are you saying I need to be extra careful?"

"Yeah, Abbs," he said with a slow nod of the head. "That's what I'm saying."

"This is one of those 'gut' things, isn't it?" she asked.

"Just watch yourself, and keep the lab door locked," Gibbs said, as he turned and strode from the lab.

As soon as he was through the door, Abby picked up her remote and hit the button that instituted her lockdown protocols, keeping anyone else out of the lab without her letting them in. She looked over at Bert, her stuffed hippo. "Okay, now I'm freaking out a little," she said to him.


	3. Chapter 3

RULE ZERO

Chapter 3

The Dudley Knox Naval History Center was in one of the older buildings on the Navy Yard. As such, the building had character, unlike the plain functionality of the building housing NCIS. Tony DiNozzo stepped up to the polished wood information desk. The elderly woman with blue-grey hair behind the desk smiled at him. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS," he said, flashing his badge and identification. "Could you direct me to the director's office?"

"This is about that poor Mister Butler, isn't it," she asked. "Such a nice boy."

"Wow," Tony said. "Word travels fast."

"Well, my niece Martha works in the cafeteria and she overheard two agents talking…" she said.

"Wait," Tony said. "Martha with the red hair and the great big," he held his hands out, then realized to whom he was speaking and dropped them quickly. "Banana pudding with Nilla wafers Martha?" he asked.

The woman chuckled. "Yes. And she said you were pretty cute yourself, Agent DiNozzo."

"Great banana pudding," Tony said, wistfully.

"Director Banner's office is down that hall, fourth door on your left," the woman said.

"Thank you, ma'am," Tony said, thinking he'd have to stop by the cafeteria later. He hadn't had banana pudding for a long time.

He strode down the hall to the door marked 'Doctor Bruce Banner, Director', his footsteps hollow on the wood floors. Tony knocked and, without waiting for a response, opened the door.

A small woman with mousy brown hair sat behind a grey metal government-issue desk, typing on a computer. She smiled when Tony entered and jumped to her feet. "Agent DiNozzo!" she cried.

Tony blinked in surprise, trying to recall when or where he had met this woman before. "I, uh… Hi," he said.

"It's good to see you again, Agent DiNozzo," she said.

"And, um, you… ah… too," he said.

She stepped around the desk and Tony couldn't help but notice that she had a trim, shapely body under the severe suit she wore. "You don't remember me, do you?" she asked.

"Of course I…" Tony stammered, and then glanced down at the ground. "Sorry, no."

"I guess that's not surprising," she said. "Meagan McLauren. I was Tim McGee's date to the Christmas party last year? You were kind of… well…"

"Oh. Oh! Yeah. Great party," Tony said, breathing a sigh of relief that this wasn't, as he had originally feared, one of the women he had dated.

"How is Timmy?" she asked.

"Same old McGee," Tony said. "Um, really busy with his caseload. You know how it is."

"Oh," she sighed.

"Anyway," Tony said quickly. "I need to speak to Director Banner. Is he in?"

"Just a moment," Meagan said. She turned and knocked on an inner door, paused, and stuck her head in at a muffled reply from beyond. "Agent DiNozzo from NCIS here to see you, Director," she said. At another muffled reply, she turned back to Tony, opening the door and standing to the side. "The Director will see you now," she said.

Tony nodded in thanks and stepped into the inner office. A large man with thinning grey hair and a noticeable paunch stood and stepped around his desk, offering Tony his hand. "Bruce Banner," he said. "Please, have a seat."

Tony shook Banner's hand and then took the proffered chair. "Bruce Banner, huh?" Tony said. "Hate to make you mad."

Banner rolled his eyes and then sat back down behind his desk. "So I assume this is about Reggie?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," Tony said. "How long had Petty Officer Butler worked here at the Naval History Center?"

"Only three, almost four months," Banner said. "He broke his leg in an accident and was restricted to light duty so he was assigned here until he was released for full duty."

"What kind of accident?" Tony asked.

"As I understand it, he fell down a hatchway," Banner said with a shrug. "On board the U.S.S. San Jacinto. Mr. Butler was not the most… graceful of individuals, if you catch my meaning."

Tony made a mental note to check the incident report on the accident. "And what did he do for the Center?" he asked.

"Pretty boring stuff, actually," Butler said, picking up a pen and tapping it idly on his desk pad. "We received a rather large collection of papers from Admiral Benjamin Collier's estate and he was helping to catalogue those papers."

"How did Petty Officer Butler get along with the other people here at the Center?" Tony asked.

Butler shrugged again. "He was well-liked, I believe. I certainly didn't hear about any problems. He came in, worked his shift, and went home."

"Any idea why he was here so late last night?" Tony asked.

"I think he was helping Emily find some documents that the Naval Postgraduate School had requested," Banner said.

"Emily?" Tony asked.

"Emily Donovan," Banner said. "One of the research fellows interning here for the semester."

"And where can I find this Emily Donovan?" Tony asked.

Banner glanced at his watch. "I believe she has afternoon classes on Mondays, so she probably won't be in until after three."

Tony nodded and stood. "Thank you, Director," he said.

Banner stood. "Anything I can do to help," Banner said. "Let me know."

"Thank you, I will."

Tony exited the office. Banner's secretary jumped to her feet when he walked past. "Tell Timmy I said 'hello'," she said.

"Oh, I will," Tony said, smiling.

* * *

"I ran into your ex… Timmy," Tony said as he dropped his gear behind his desk.

"My ex?" McGee asked.

"Meagan McLauren. Brown hair. Nice shape."

"Oh," McGee said.

"She wants you to call," Tony said.

"Yeah. I don't think…" McGee said.

"That is the girl from the Christmas party, is it not?" Ziva called from her desk. "She seemed very nice. Why do you not call her?"

"It's… complicated," McGee said. "Besides, I'm seeing somebody."

"Oh yes," Tony said, nodding. "The non-kisser."

"Tony," McGee protested. "I don't think…"

"That would make you DiNozzo," Gibbs said, coming around the corner. "Grab your gear. We've got another body."

"Where's this one?" McGee asked.

"Arlington National Cemetery," Gibbs said. "Ducky will meet us there."

With a flurry of opening and closing desk drawer and slinging back packs, the team grabbed their gear and hurried after Gibbs.

* * *

The guard at the gate waved Gibbs' Charger and the NCIS van through. Gibbs stopped next to the guard post and the guard pointed him in the direction of the body.

Flags fluttered in the light breeze in front of each of the granite headstones in preparation for Memorial Day. The two vehicles wove slowly through the streets of the cemetery. Ducky's van was already at the scene.

The team piled out and Ducky stood as they approached.

"I am afraid we have another one," he said, squinting in the bright sunlight. He nodded toward the ground where another plastic wrapped body lay. This one a woman, judging by the amount of hair at one end and the high-heeled shoes at the other. "They tell me the body was discovered by one of the security patrols."

DiNozzo grabbed the bill of his NCIS ball cap and spun it around, and then pulled out his camera. He looked at Gibbs who nodded, and then he began photographing the scene.

"Same M.O.," Gibbs said to Ducky.

"Definitely," Ducky agreed. "See here. Mister Palmer?"

Ducky and Palmer knelt and slowly rolled the body onto its side. The woman's chest was bared and carved in the flesh just below the breasts was 'RULE 27.'

Gibbs eyes went wide. "Everybody down!" he shouted as he frantically started scanning the area.

"Jethro, whatever are you…" Ducky started to say. Suddenly, his body gave a little jerk. An instant later, there was a distinct 'Crack!' Ducky crumpled to the ground.

The team had been shot at enough to recognize the sound and dove behind vehicles and headstones.

"Ducky!" Ziva cried and dashed out from behind Gibb's car to pull Ducky behind the NCIS van.

"Oh dear," Ducky muttered, looking down at the red stain spreading across his shirt.

"Anyone see the shooter?" Tony called, sticking his head carefully over the trunk of the car to try and spot their assailant.

"Keep your head down, DiNozzo!" Gibbs commanded. "It came from over there. Sniper."

"Ducky has been hit," Ziva called out as she ripped open his shirt. Seeing blood gushing from the wound, she grabbed her own shirt, violently tore it off, and pressed it against the wound. "He is going to need help fast."

Gibbs stood up and faced in the direction from which the shot had come. Tony flinched, expecting another bullet. None came.

Gibbs hurried over to Ducky's side and knelt down. "Hang in there, Duck."

"I… I'm so sorry, Jethro," Ducky said. Then his eyes closed and his head slumped to the side.


	4. Chapter 4

RULE ZERO

Chapter 4

The doors to the Emergency Room entrance slid open and a woman in a dog collar and high-heeled boots shuffled quickly in. She looked quickly left and right and, not seeing any familiar faces, minced up to the counter.

"I'm here to see…" she started to say.

"Fill out the forms and have a seat. We'll call you," the woman behind the desk said without looking up.

Abby Sciuto slammed a hand down on the counter and the woman started and jerked her head up. "Listen, sister," Abby said in a voice incongruously both lilting and cold. "I am Abigail Sciuto of the Naval Criminal Investigative Service and one of my team was brought in here so you damn well better show me where they are. Doctor Donald Mallard."

"Is… is that the attending physician?" the woman stammered.

"That's the patient!" Abby said. Rolling her eyes, she hopped up on the counter, slid across, and pushed the woman aside. Her fingers flew over the keyboard.

"Miss!" a woman in green scrubs protested, rushing up. "You can't…"

Abby stuck a hand, palm first, in the woman's face. "There!" she said, jabbing at the screen. "Mallard, Donald. Trauma room three. Where is it?"

"I don't…" the first woman stammered.

"Where?" Abby demanded.

"Around over there," the second woman said.

Abby straightened and stomped down the hall – as much as anyone could stomp in four inch platform heels.

"Gibbs!" she cried, seeing a familiar face. She ran up to Gibbs and buried her face in his shoulder. "Tell me Ducky's going to be okay," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt. "Tell me everything's going to be all right."

Gibbs kissed the top of her head. "I can't tell you that, Abby."

Abby pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes filling with tears. "Yes you can, Gibbs. If you say it, it'll be true, because you never lie to me."

"No, Abby," Gibbs said. "I can't lie to you."

"Oh Ducky!" Abby cried and buried her head against his shoulder again.

There was the sound of footsteps, and two security guards appeared around the corner. They stopped at seeing Abby in Gibbs arms. Gibbs looked up and them and nodded. They shrugged, turned, and walked away.

"Abbs?" Gibbs asked, pushing her away just enough to look her in the eyes.

"They were giving me the run-around at the front desk so I had to go all Gibbs on them," she explained.

She pulled away and looked around. "Where are Tony and Ziva and McGee? They should be here! Are they alright?"

"They're canvassing the area to try and find the shooter." Gibbs said. He nodded over to a chair where a figure in coveralls was slumped, his head in his hands. "But Palmer's here."

Abby hurried over to the chair next to him and grabbed Palmer's hand. "He's going to be alright, Jimmy," she said.

Palmer looked up. His eyes were red. He blinked at Abby a few times, and then nodded slowly. "He's a tough old bird," he said, his voice cracking. "Did you know that in Malaysia he was once stabbed three times? This is nothing." He looked toward the doors of the operating suite. "This is nothing," he said again, his voice barely a whisper.

"Over here!" Tony called.

Ziva and McGee came jogging over.

"He didn't police his brass," Tony said, pulling out a pen, slipping it in the end of the spent cartridge and holding it up for them to see. The brass casing glinted in the fading light.

"A good sniper always polices the area," Ziva said.

"Unless he's sending a message," Tony said. "Catch me if you can."

"Leonardo DiCaprio," Ziva said.

Tony smiled at her. "How did you…"

McGee held out an evidence bag. "I'll take this to Abby and have her run ballistics on it right away," he said, cutting Tony off.

"Abby's going to be at the hospital," Tony said. "And she's not going to leave until Ducky's out of surgery."

McGee sealed the top of the evidence bag and pulled out a pen to note the relevant details regarding where and when the casing was found to establish the chain of evidence. His movements were oddly mechanical, as if forcing himself to follow a procedure he had done a thousand times without having to think too much about it. He turned to Ziva. "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

Ziva let out a breath and frowned, looking down at the ground.

"So much blood," Tony said, glancing down the hill toward the area where the two NCIS vans were still parked, surrounded by yellow crime scene tape hanging limp, the earlier breeze having died away.

"Look here," Ziva said, suddenly. She knelt down next to the gravestone the shooter had no doubt used as a shooting rest. She lightly touched the ground and pulled some of the grass back. The roots and soil seemed to be stained a dark red. "McGee, get me a shovel and something to put this soil in."

Tony leaned down next to her. "Blood?" he asked.

Ziva lightly touched the sticky red liquid and then raised her fingers up to her nose. She waved them lightly under her nostrils and sniffed. "No," she said. "I have smelled this before." She frowned, calling up the scent from her memory. Suddenly she straightened, recognition dawning on her face. DiNozzo stood reflexively. "Abby's lab," she said. "This," she held her fingers up to Tony, "is Caf-Pow."

"Very good, Sacajawea," Tony said, "what else do those honed Israeli senses tell you?"

Ziva frowned, studying the ground. "Two people," she said. "A shooter and a spotter."

"You can't possibly know…" Tony started.

"See the grass here? Two footprints. One large, one small. A large man and a woman or a small man. And here. This indentation is no doubt from a tripod for a spotting scope."

"It was an ambush," Tony said, looking down the slope.

"Yes," Ziva agreed. "The body was no doubt the bait to lure us here."

"But that means…" McGee started.

"Someone's stalking us," Tony finished for him. He thought back to the bodies. "Someone who knows Gibbs rules." Tony pulled out his phone and dialed Gibbs.

Gibbs's cell phone rang and he stepped around the corner, out of earshot of Abby and Palmer. "Gibbs."

"We found the shooter's perch, boss," DiNozzo said. "It was clearly an ambush." 

"Ya think, DiNizzo?" Gibbs said.

"Right, uh. Ziva said there were two people, a shooter and a spotter. Shooter was a man and the spotter was a woman or a small man."

Gibbs frowned. Two people using a classic military sniper model of shooter and spotter. This wasn't some lone wacko. "Anything else?"

"He didn't police his brass. We'll get the shell casings to Abby."

"A good sniper always polices his brass."

"Unless he's sending a message."

Gibbs thought back to his most important kill shot… and the shell he left behind as a message. The shell which caused so much trouble for his team and his family so many years later. The shell Paloma Reynosa had worn around her neck for years.

"There's something else, boss," DiNozzo said, interrupting Gibbs' reverie.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"Caf-Pow."

"What?"

"A big, dark red patch on the ground here next to the shooter's perch that Ziva swears is Caf-Pow."

Gibbs shook his head. That meant something, but he couldn't think straight. Couldn't put it together. "Get a sample to the lab."

"I sent McGee for a shovel," DiNozzo said. "Although I don't think the grounds-keeper's going to like us digging up their grass."

"Do you think I care?" Gibbs snapped, then immediately regretted it. DiNozzo was dealing with the shooting the only way he knew how, by being flippant. 'Rule number 6,' he thought. 'Never apologize.' Instead, he asked, "How much longer?"

"I think we've done all we can here for now," DiNozzo said. "We're losing light. We'll drop the evidence off at Abby's lab and then swing by the hospital." There was a long pause. "Any word?"

"He's still in surgery."

"Yeah, but that's a good thing," DiNozzo insisted. "I mean, if he was going to…" There was a long pause. "I mean, the fact that there's still working on him…" His voice trailed off.

'Means he's not dead yet,' Gibbs silently completed the thought. "Yeah," he replied.

"Right," DiNozzo said, his voice sounding falsely cheerful. "We'll be there in an hour. Forty-five minutes if we let Ziva drive." There was the sound of a 'whap' over the line and Gibbs almost smiled at the mental image of Ziva smacking Tony's arm.

"We'll be here."


End file.
